Well, Here we are on the 27th of December and for the first time in memory I did NOT buy myself a camera or lens for Christmas. Or Thanksgiving. In fact, the last camera I bought was the DLUX8 back in mid-Summer. What happened?

 

At one point in my blogging history I was becoming famous for changing cameras and camera systems more often than most people change their underwear. (Gross exaggeration... really....gross). But since my initial foray into the world of Leica digital I've not strayed from the chosen path, into another system, for nearly five long years. Okay...somewhere back in time (2020) I did buy the Sigma fp but my intentions were to use that camera mostly for video, and it is part of the L mount system, and so it doesn't count as straying from the flock of true believers. Not by much...

But--- I did keep up a pretty good pace when it came to new camera body and lens acquisitions from 2019-2025. Entirely Leica cameras, some of which came and went (many seemed comfortable and stayed), and an assortment of Leica, Sigma, Panasonic, Zeiss and Voigtlander lenses. Oh! and also, this year, three of the Thypoch lenses for the M Leicas. While I have friends whose collection/accumulation of Leica gear dwarfs my small inventory I do think I've just about hit my personal Leica glut here in the studio. The very studio I'm in the process of converting from a work space to a recreational fortress of solitude. Surrounded by cameras, lights, computers but no clients.

In years past it was relatively easy to justify splashing out for newly advanced camera models within a system; and it would have been the same in any system. One could always make the argument that a new model camera or lens would add obvious value. The newly improved sensor would delivery more resolution or less noise; or both. That new lens would represent the ultimate in expressive rendering and together, camera and lens, would elevate my photography to new, ever higher levels of technical achievement. In the side chambers of my mind I'd pretend that clients would be savvy enough to appreciate the small improvements that came from the upgrades and they would appreciate my attention to any detail that might improve the work I would be delivering to them. In turn, they'd acquiesce to modest increases in my fees and we'd all walk away from the new equipment purchases much happier.

Of course it was always a self-serving ruse. Whatever incremental improvements provided were always mitigated or offset by an ever accelerating progression of the end results of the work from big prints to small screens --- which are so clever in their ability to disguise the provenance of the tools by dint of their tiny resolutions and eye candy saturation. The money was spent more as hedge against feeling sidelined by the ever constricting borders comprising the realm of fun projects. Projects which might show off just how good the gear might be... Or how shamelessly wonderful my honed eye and finely tuned sensibilities.

Since shuttering my mind to the lure of doing photography that chases money most of the desire for, and attachment to, the gear has clearly waned. If I am the only person who needs to be wowed by the gear it loses its relevance for psychologically bolstering the basic desire for it. In other words I don't have any competition left against which to measure my toolset collection against. Almost overnight all of the cameras have assumed an equal ranking in my mind. Each has its own character and each its own limitations but like children I've come to appreciate them all. No single one has an exclusive lock on bringing me imaging satisfaction. Not the most recent and not the oldest and smallest one in the big, roomy, legal-sized filing cabinets in which I store them when they are momentarily out of circulation. 

So, I changed gears in August. Sure, I bought a couple of new lenses. One was a used, little Leica zoom lens from the Leica R days. I didn't need it but it was so cute and earnest, and priced so well, that I just couldn't walk away. The other was the Thypoch 75mm f1.4 which I am still certain will elevate my rough and ready street portraits to fascinating new levels (right....). 

October rolled around and that was the month of my 70th birthday. In the past each birthday was an easy event or landmark which almost demanded I mark it with some sort of celebratory camera. Or camera and lens. But this year nothing really piqued my interest. Nothing felt "mission critical". Probably because the missions that seemed to encourage endless, tiny upgrades were gone. Finally at a point in my life where the expenses to buy "luxe" gear had become meaningless, paradoxically my desire for the new gear was inversely proportional to my ability to buy it. A stunning realization. 

I decided that month that this mindset was probably temporary, like those times when one overindulges in a lavish meal with many courses, and paired wines, and subsequently loses one's appetite for excess for days at a time. I was sure my appetite for shiny toys would bounce back, renewed.

But then Thanksgiving rolled around and while one friend added amply to his inventory of cool photo gear that month while another friend added to his collection of effete German cars I found myself, well, satisfied with the gear I had on hand to play with. And equally satisfied driving my inexpensive Subaru car. Desire not bubbling just below the surface. I was happy to just wander around with an old, worn, favorite camera and one of the ancient legacy lenses I've been hoarding for decades. And happy to rattle around in my two year old car with its 13,000 miles on the digital odometer... Still fearing that first door ding...

Then we were coming into Christmas. I shopped for fun things to give to my small, nuclear family. Sent cheques to nieces and nephews. Tipped the people who were most helpful this year. Paid my property taxes and my swim dues, and my USMS dues. Made some charitable contributions and still had money left over to shop for myself. To finally get my camera appetite back and snap up some clever morsel of optical engineering for no other reason than the promise of even better snapshots.

I saw a tasty deal on a Leica SL3. And some German lenses. And a monochrome M camera. And a Swedish medium format camera. But each time I shopped I realized that I had nowhere near used up the potential in any of the cameras I'd thought were so wonderful just last year. Or the year before. Or the year before that. Each, at the time, had appealed to me as the best in class. But I have not given them the chance yet to show me their full potential. And that gave me pause. 

Yesterday, on the way to drink coffee and read poems from a new book of poetry by Billy Collins (Dogs) I picked up my SL2-S, equipped with a 50mm Canon FD lens. Like a security blanket from a past life. I probably shot ten frames that morning. Would 100 megapixels instead of 24 megapixels have made a huge (or even tiny) difference in my enjoyment yesterday morning? Not that I could tell. 

Today as I left the house for swim practice I picked up, instead, an SL2 and the 50mm APO from Voigtlander. I always think the 47 megapixels in that camera are a good match for the times I want to make black and white pictures. And I'm still convinced that the 50mm APO is the best lens I own. I do test my lenses but I'm also a sucker sometimes for the advertising messages that tell me I should like a lens. I'm home now from swim practice but the camera and lens, unused this morning, are still sitting in the passenger seat of my practical car. I might try again this afternoon but I'm not sure if I'm motivated today to head back out and wander around in search of inspiration. 

All of which is to say that without a proscribed mission in mind the gear all starts to seem equally practical, equally exciting or unexciting, and not the locus for inspiration. 

I was going to buy a "throwaway" lens yesterday. I'd been hearing from some people about how surprised and happy they were with the size, price and performance of a TTArtisan 40mm f2 AF lens. A lens one could pick up for the L mount system for about $165. New. In a box. Ready to wow. 

I read a few things about it and thought buying one might do a bit to re-fire my desire to get back into the mix and do a bit of ambulatory photo therapy. Oh, excuse me! Cultural documentation.

The lens landed in my shopping cart and then I pushed the "buy" button and noted the promised delivery this coming Tuesday. Then I took opened gift boxes and wrapping paper and other detritus out to the recycling bin and when I walked back into the house I was overwhelmed with the feeling that as far as lenses go the purchase of the TTArtisan 40 was akin to running in place. Nothing new to see if you aren't running forward...

Somehow the elimination of clients calmed the irrational desire for more and different cameras that I'd been feeling for decades. And it's interesting to figure out how tied together our desires are with our self-worth and identities. Commercial Photographer = Guy Who Knows all About Cameras. Even if the combination isn't a smart way to move through life. 

I'm worried though that I am becoming too serious. When I went to swim practice today everyone was filled with the holiday spirit and there was much chat between sets and almost an indifference to the workout. I spotted a lane at the far end of the pool that was empty and moved down there. Then I put my head down and hammered through the workout without delays and without stopping to socialize at all. I'm not usually that way but I remembered a line from a favorite poem:  "Had we but world enough and time this coyness (lady) were no crime. But over my shoulder I do hear time's winged chariot drawing near." 

(Andrew Marvell. "To His Coy Mistress")

Suddenly I am approaching photography in the same way. I'm becoming parsimonious with my attention. I'm trying to match my time with subjects I really want to photograph instead of just walking around dragging a big net behind me, hoping to catch something in its weave. More intention? Probably. Or the realization that so much has already been added to the archives already and a bit more is not going to move the needle. 

On the other hand, I may wake up tomorrow with a renewed spark of interest. Ready to buy that used Leica SL-3 and test whether or not its 60+ megapixels will make those shots from the patio at Jo's Coffee sing a bit better. Or whether that 50mm APO Summicron will help me see more insightfully into the infinity of that beautiful portrait subject's perfect eyes. 

Kind of like tossing a proverbial stick of dynamite into the gear pool and seeing what kind of inspirational fish float to the surface...

But here we are, barreling towards the end of a tiresome and fraught year and I'm no closer to heading down to the camera river with my pail and scoop in order to dip in and fill the bucket with new stuff (apologies to Kurt Vonnegut). We'll see what transpires when the calendar clicks over. 

Thanks for reading!